Three Boys; Or, The Chiefs of the Clan Mackhai

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

  AN EXCITING CHASE.

  "Scood! you beast!"

  "Silence, Kenneth!" cried The Mackhai sternly, as he lookedhalf-angrily, half-pleased at the flushed face of the young gillie.

  "She ton't care. She'll fecht for ta Mackhai till she ties."

  "Leave the room, sir!" cried The Mackhai. "You meant well, but you havedone a cruel and cowardly thing."

  Scoodrach hung his head, and stooped to pick up his bonnet by one of thestrands of the worsted tuft, letting the soft flat cap spin slowly roundas he watched it, and then he moved toward the door.

  "Stop!" cried The Mackhai.

  Scoodrach turned sharply and defiantly round, with his hot northernblood flushing to his temples.

  "Ta Chief may kill her," he cried; "but she shall na say she's sorry."

  "Go and fetch Tavish and your father, sir, and never dare to address meagain like that."

  Scoodrach slunk out of the room, and, as he turned to shut the door, hiseyes met those of Kenneth, who shook his fist at him.

  Without a moment's hesitation, Scoodrach doubled his own, and lookeddefiance as the door was closed.

  "Never dare to address me again like that!" muttered The Mackhai. "Poorlad! there is no fear."

  "What shall we do, father?"

  "Do? We must all set out in search of Max, and bring him back. In myanger, Ken, I have done a brutal thing."

  "But you did not mean it, father."

  "How could he know that? See if he has taken his luggage. No, no;impossible! The poor lad has wandered right away into the mountains,and I am to blame. Get the ponies, Kenneth; we may do better mounted.I suppose," he added bitterly, "we may use them for the present."

  Kenneth darted out of the room, met Tavish and Long Shon, and in a veryfew minutes the two sturdy little ponies were in the old courtyard, TheMackhai and his son mounting, and the little party starting off at once.

  Before they had gone far, The Mackhai turned his head.

  "Where is that boy?" he said.

  No one replied, for Scood had not been seen to leave, but from where hewas seated Kenneth could just see a tuft of wool sticking up above theheather, and he pressed the sides of his pony and cantered back to wherethe boy lay upon his face in a hollow, with his bonnet tilted on to theback of his head.

  "Here, Scoody! What are you doing there?" cried Kenneth.

  "Naething."

  "Get up, sir, and come on."

  "Na. She will gang away and be a redcoat. Naebody cares for Scoody thenoo."

  "Don't be a red-headed donkey. Get up, and come and show us which wayMax Blande went."

  Scoodrach shook his head.

  "Look here, if you don't get up, I'll call father, and he'll come andlay into you with the dog-whip."

  "He wadna daur," cried the lad, leaping up and glaring at the speaker.

  "Yes, he would, and so would I, if I had one here."

  "Gin ye daur lay a finger on her, she'll hae your bluid!" criedScoodrach.

  "There!" cried Kenneth, pressing his pony's sides, and reaching over tocatch tightly hold of the lad's collar. "I daur lay a whole hand onyou, Scoody. Noo, lat's see gin ye daur turn on your Chief."

  "Ye know I wadna hurt a hair o' your heid," muttered the lad.

  "Then come on, like a good fellow, Scoody, and help to find him."

  "D'ye want to find the laddie wha's gaun to rob ye o' ta auld plaace?"

  "Yes. Come on, Scood. We mustn't quarrel, and you won't be such abrute as to refuse to help me because I'm going to be poor."

  "Puir or rich!" cried the lad, with the tears of excitement in his eyes,"gin ye want her to, she'll dee for ye, Maister Ken."

  "That's old Scoody once again," cried Kenneth, drumming his pony'sflanks; and as the little animal whisked round, Scoodrach caught hold ofits long tail, gave the hairs a twist round his hand, and away they wentafter the others, to whom they soon caught up.

  Then followed a long and wearisome search, Scoodrach pointing out theway Max had taken, when, as there was no path or even sheep-track, theydivided, and went on mile after mile, only to give up at dark and returntired and faint, and with Scoodrach hanging his head as he felt how hehad been the cause of all the trouble; and, seizing the firstopportunity, he slipped off with the ponies, to bed them down for thenight.

  "We must be up at daybreak and begin again, Ken," said The Mackhaisadly. "That boy must be found. Can you form any idea which way hewould take?"

  "No, father. I've been trying to think, but we seem to have triedeverywhere, and I don't believe he could have gone very far."

  "He had a long start."

  "You don't think he has come to any harm--slipped over the cragsanywhere, or gone into--"

  Kenneth stopped and shuddered.

  "One of the boggy patches, Ken? Oh no, my boy. He has been out so muchwith you and Scoodrach, that he ought to be able to take care of himselfby now."

  "Yes, father--ought to," said Kenneth meaningly; and then, in anoutburst of passion, as he stood with clenched fists, "I'll give Scoodysuch a thrashing as he never had in his life! I'll half kill him."

  "Hush! That will do," said The Mackhai sadly. "The boy acted accordingto his lights. He was, in his half-savage way, fighting for the honourof our old house."

  "Yes, father, but--"

  "Hush, my boy! Our days are numbered at Dunroe: let us leave here withas pleasant memories as we can, and with the love and respect of thosewho have looked to us for bread."

  "Oh, father!" cried Kenneth; and there was a great sob in his throat,and his face was contracted though his eyes were dry.

  The Mackhai grasped his son's hand.

  "Be a man, Ken," he said quietly. "You ought to have commenced lifewell, but now you will have to go forth into the world and fight yourway. You must make friends, not enemies."

  "It would not make Scood an enemy, father, and a good whacking would dohim good."

  "No, no, Ken. Now get some food, and go and lie down for a few hours tohave some rest. We can do nothing till daylight."

  "Very well, father. And--and I will try not to mind leaving the oldplace, and to be a man."

  "God bless you, my boy!" cried The Mackhai, laying his hands upon hisson's shoulders and gazing into his eyes. "Come, Ken, trouble has itsgood sides after all; it has taught me something more about the natureof my son. Now, go and get some rest; I shall not be happy till I havetaken that boy again by the hand."

  "Why, father!" cried Kenneth excitedly. "Oh, what an old donkey I am!"

  Before The Mackhai could speak, he had rushed out of the room and acrossthe hall, to return at the end of a few minutes in company with Dirk,who was barking, and as excited as his master.

  "Why, Ken!" cried The Mackhai.

  "It's all right, father. Dirk will find him. Tavvy is waiting. Don'tyou come. We'll have poor old Maxy back before long."

  "I shall come with you," said The Mackhai, rising, and taking a flaskand plaid from where they lay. "What are you going to do first?"

  "I'll soon show you," cried Ken excitedly. "Here, Dirk, old boy, put onyour best nose to-night, and let's show the Londoner what a Highland dogcan do."

  Dirk barked loudly, and followed his master as he rushed out of the roomand up-stairs to Max's chamber, where Kenneth dragged some of theclothes which his visitor had worn last down upon the carpet.

  "Now, Dirk! seek, laddie, seek!"

  The dog dashed at the clothes, snuffed at them, tossed them over,snuffed at them again, and then uttered a sharp, whining bark.

  "Come along," cried Kenneth, and he ran down to the hall, where hisfather was ready, and then out into the dark courtyard, at whoseentrance Tavish was waiting, armed with a tall staff.

  "I ken ye're richt, maister," he said. "We'll lay ta collie on chustwhere the laddie saw ta young chentleman last."

  Very little was said as they trudged on, Kenneth holding Dirk by one ofhis ears, till they reached the foot of
the slope, pointed out byScoodrach as the road taken by Max.

  Here the dog was loosed, and he looked up in his master's face, barkingloudly, as if asking for instructions, and not yet comprehending whatwas meant.

  "Seek, laddie, seek! Max, Max! Seek, seek!"

  Dirk uttered a low yelping whine, and began to quarter the ground,whimpering and growing more and more excited as he increased thedistance between him and those who followed by sound, for the dog wassoon invisible in the darkness.

  For quite a quarter of an hour the hunt was kept on, each minute dampingthe hopes of the party more and more, till The Mackhai said sadly,--

  "It's of no use, my boy. You're asking too much of the dog."

  "She thocht Dirk would ha' takken it up," said Tavish slowly. "She's nathe dog she thocht."

  "Don't give up yet, father. I feel sure."

  "Hey, she's cot it!" cried Tavish wildly, as a loud baying bark camefrom Dirk.

  "Yes, come on! He has got it now," cried Kenneth, and he dashed on at asharp trot right into the darkness.

  "Keep up with him, Tavish," cried The Mackhai. "Steady, Ken, steady."

  "All right, father," came from far ahead.

  "Oh ay, sir, she'll be close aifter the young Chief. Hark! d'ye hear?Dirk's got the scent, and she'll rin him doon."

  Right away in the darkness the low barking of the dog could be heard,for Dirk had indeed got on the scent, and, with the wondrous faculty ofhis kind, he was trotting steadily on over the grass and heather, nosedown, tail high, and not for a moment halting in his quest.

  Hour after hour the hunt went on, no little exertion being needed tokeep within hearing of the dog, who followed Max's trail right on andon--a devious, wandering trail, right along to the narrow gully wherethe dark loch lay. After coming to a halt several times, where Max hadwaded into patches of bog, and also where he had stepped over theprecipitous place and fallen a few feet, to slide and scramble down somedistance farther, Dirk picked up the trail again, and trotted on.

  These halts gave those who followed time to catch up, and there were somany faults along the edge of the dark, narrow loch, that Kenneth andTavish were together and pretty close behind.

  "Think o' ta laddie finding his way doon here," said the forester.

  "You don't think he can have slipped in anywhere?" whispered Kenneth."It's a nasty place, even by day."

  "Oh ay, laddie, and ta fush are sma' and hard to get. She'd get richtalang, though. Noo, which way wad she gang--up by ta waterfa', or awa'through ta wee bit burnie?"

  "I don't know, Tavvy," panted Kenneth; "but we ought to be near himnow."

  "Nay; she'll be a lang gate yet, my bairn. Air ye there, sir?"

  "Yes; go on," came from behind; and the rough tramp was continued, tillthe forester cried,--

  "She's gaed up ta burnie."

  "Why, Tavvy, there's a light there! What light's that?"

  "Licht?" said Tavish innocently. "Hey, there's a licht!"

  "What can it be?"

  "Only a shepherd's bothy."

  "There is no shepherd's bothy up here on the Clandougal estate, Tavvy."

  "Maybe it's some Southron laird had a cot made for him to fush ta loch."

  "Nonsense, Tavvy! and if it was so, no one would be having a big firethere at this time of night."

  "Whush, laddie!"

  "But--I know! Why, Tavvy, it's a still!"

  "Whush! Here, lat's ca' back ta tog."

  "Nonsense! He has gone right on. Hurray! we've found him. Max is sureto be up there by the fire."

  "Ta laddies wadna lat her stop," muttered Tavish; "put we'll pe hafin'trouble wi' 'em. Hearken to ta tog!"

  "Why, Ken, look," came from behind, as the dog's barking went echoingalong the narrow little glen; "that must be a still. Eh, Tavish?"

  "Aw'm thinking maybe it sall be a still, sir," said Tavish innocently,as his master closed up.

  "Maybe?" said The Mackhai sharply; "and I'm thinking you knew it wasthere, and have tasted the stuff."

  Tavish was silent, and they all plodded on toward the distant light, thedog's track being straight for it naturally, for the only way up thelittle glen was by the burn.

  "Ta licht's gone," muttered Tavish. "She'll be thinking they've heertta tog, and thrown watter upo' it, and we shall be in trouble peforewe've done."

  "Hallo!" cried Kenneth; "the light's out."

  The Mackhai called attention to the fact at the same moment.

  "Keep close to me, Kenneth," he said. "But no they would not dare," hesaid to himself.

  Tavish turned to his master.

  "Shall she fecht?"

  "There will be no need, my man. Get on. We shall find the boy hastaken shelter there."

  Tavish shook his head, and muttered to himself.

  "What is it, Tavvy?" said Kenneth.

  "If it's ta whusky they're makking aboon yonder, ta young chentlemanisna there."

  "Well, we shall soon see about that," cried Kenneth, pressing on in themost reckless way, and only saving himself from several falls by hisactivity, for he went among the broken rocks like a goat.

  A loud burst of barking lent speed to his feet; and ten minutes laterthe party were up in front of the rough building, from which came totheir nostrils the strong reek of steam, telling that water had beenthrown upon the fire they had seen.

  There was no answer to their calls, but Dirk was barking furiouslyinside, and Kenneth at once entered, Tavish following to light a match;but there was no one within, only enough visible to show what businesshad been going on.

  "Any one about here?" shouted Kenneth, after they had satisfiedthemselves that Max was not to be seen.

  But there was no reply, and Tavish shouted in Gaelic.

  Only the echoes answered his call; and Kenneth impatiently coaxed outthe dog, who seemed to think that his work was done.

  "He has been here, father, and they've gone on."

  "Ta loons air hiding, laddie," whispered Tavish, "and hearin' every wordwe say. Hey! but Dirk has it again. Gude tog! gude tog!"

  Dirk had suddenly taken up the track again, and followed faithfully on,right up the side of the glen, and away over the level mountain plain,after tracking the fugitive by the side of a great fall, which made itsway downward into the loch.

  The rest of the hunt was easy, for Dirk took them on and on; Kennethgrowing so excited, as he felt that the end of the chase was near, thathe left Tavish and his father far in the rear.

  Then Dirk dashed right away, and Kenneth was in turn left behind, tillhe knew that the dog had found, for his loud baying came from away inthe darkness, as he stood barking over the spot where Max lay, halfasleep, half in a state of stupor, brought on by cold.